Forgetfulness
by MiraMeraki
Summary: As the fall of the Silver Millennium draws near, Queen Serenity pays one last visit to her most feared, most hidden, most faithful Senshi.


"Luna."

A simple word was all it took to break the unearthly quiet.

"Luna?"

Louder this time, and breathy, too. The soft _click-clack_ of shoes hastened.

 _"Luna?!"_

The cry, the echo, then nothing but silence again.

Silence was a worthless excess in the Time Spiral Tower. No living being was known to venture there; most didn't even know its name. It was a part of the castle that was tucked out of sight, behind the shimmering fountains and the rose gardens and the stained glass windows and the crystal walls. These and other such trims and trappings had piled up all the more during the prosperous millennium, yet the tower was always there. Out of sight, and for most, out of mind. The only time in recent memory that anyone had ever been officially recorded to have visited the tower was when a small team of construction works had been paid very large sum to do a very simple task: to chop off the top six inches of the tower's spire. Afterwards, none could see it even peek out from behind the crescent moon-topped dome.

As a result, the Time Spiral Tower had accumulated such a storage of silent years that Queen Serenity's shouts seemed only just above whispers, as if the ancient walls had forgotten how to echo back sound. As she hastened her walk, the queen absentmindedly let her fingertips skim across those walls, as if they were skimming the surface of still water. She could feel it, in the tiny grains of dust that clung to her skin, the age of this place. It possessed more years than even she could claim. A ray of sunlight struck her back, and she shivered.

The moaning of the door's hinges set Queen Serenity's heart racing; it sounded like the creaking of bones. She glanced about her, but no one was in sight. Indeed, most of her servants weren't aware of this tower's existence. The queen smiled – or more accurately, a faint smile happened to pass like a wind across her face. If the Moon shared her hopes, they would never come to know.

Once that door was pried open, Queen Serenity saw only two things: a black cat, and another door.

"Luna!" she called, rushing over to gather the cat into her arms. With Luna safely secured, she allowed her eyes to drift up to face the second door. A few details lingered on from her memories: a structure that reached the ceiling, two unyielding pillars, crescent moons carved into circles, a lock that – thank the Moon – remained as pristine as ever. Its shadow loomed over her head.

"Luna," said the queen, "forget what you've seen today. Do you understand me?" Not waiting for a response, Queen Serenity carried Luna out of the tower in what she hoped could still qualify as a brisk and stately pace. Not running. No, surely not.

 _Even though I keep running away._

The queen knelt down and deposited Luna into the royal gardens, nourished by the friendly sunlight. "Go find Serenity, will you? I'm sure she'd like to see you after her lessons." With a nod, Luna darted through the gardens and disappeared into the friendlier wing of the Moon Castle.

There, in the silence and the stillness, the ruler of the Moon Kingdom allowed her shoulders to sag, her hands to shake, and her eyes to water. She felt the sun, warm and soothing, on the nape of her neck. _Peace. We've been able to maintain peace for… ages. Even I can't remember a time of hardship or suffering._ Out the corner of her eye, she could still see the tower. _I suppose we have you to thank for that… that is, if anyone had the heart to thank you._

Perhaps it was merely psychological, but when Queen Serenity retreated into the Time Spiral Tower, it was an experience akin to an uncanny valley effect. Light didn't shimmer quite so brightly, the ground beneath her must have possessed a stronger gravity, and it felt like she was breathing different air.

Her eyes lazily followed the dancing dust mites in an effort not to look at the door, but even queens are prone to the magnetic pull of things forbidden. "Cowardice," she cursed with a small tsk. "An understandable attribute in small quantities, but not when the result becomes cruelty. But is it because I don't trust myself with the powers that lie beyond, or because I don't trust myself with you?"

At some point in her musings, she must have crossed to the other side of the room; now, she was close enough to reach out and trace the curve of a crescent moon engraved in the stone. "Goodness," she whispered, her voice ringing like thunder in her ears. "I put this tower in the shadow of my castle, but I suppose I must still linger in your shadow… Sailor Pluto."

The echo of her knocks sounded like rainfall: booming, then light, then all too quick to pass away. "Sailor Pluto. Daughter of Chronos, child of the underworld, sworn Guardian of the Time Gate." The queen pressed her ear to the door in the way one would place an ear to hear the heartbeat of a sick child. Her voice dropped in volume and formality. "It's me. I'd like to talk to you, if that's alright."

Then she stepped back from the door, and waited. To most anyone in the Moon Kingdom, even those token few dissenters, the thought of refusing an audience with Queen Serenity would be unheard of. But Pluto was unfathomable. If their places were reversed, Serenity couldn't say for certain that she wouldn't bar that door for the rest of eternity.

"Please!" she shouted to break the stifling silence. "I… I want to talk about what I've done."

Another eternity passed before the queen saw a brief flash of garnet light winking through the keyhole. "Identity confirmed. Access granted."

A millennia on the throne had taught, if nothing else, how to brace herself for the worst. But as her face aligned itself into its default neutrality and mild temperament, she knew it wasn't going to do her any good. Nothing could prepare her for what lay beyond that door. _But that's all right,_ she thought. _It's fine if I can't collect my thoughts. We'll have all the time in the world to find them._

And with that, the world melted into mist and yellowed memories.

A voice rose over the emptiness of the Time Realm. "Queen Serenity. It's an honor."

Navy, almost black Sailor Senshi uniform. Tall stature, taller than the queen herself. Flowing, dark green hair a color incongruent with any Moon or Earth metaphor. Silver staff, crowned with a garnet stone. And eyes – she had saved the eyes for last – swirling and fathomless.

Serenity inclined her head in kind. "Sailor Pluto. It's been far too long. My fault, of course."

"May I enquire the date?" Pluto's voice wasn't cold, but it couldn't be considered friendly, either. A hollow sort of formality.

 _Start with a_ weightier _question, why don't you?_ Serenity surprised herself with the sarcasm. She cleared her throat and let her eyes drift over the endless sea of mist. "It's still the Silver Millennium. The year 956, the fifteenth of Tarsus, at about… oh, it was a little past noon, if I'm not mistaken."

Pluto nodded her head once. "Approximately 311 years, five months, seven days, and six hours since our last encounter. Your Highness flatters me by her presence. What time my Lady chooses to spend with me is much appreciated."

"Pluto, you're not in my court or on trial," Serenity said. "I'm in no position to ask you for anything, but for both our sakes, could speak to me with… some openness, perhaps?"

"Of course, Your Highness, as you wish." Her hardened expression hadn't faltered; like a glacier, it would take either a miracle or many, many years to thaw. "How is the kingdom doing?"

Queen Serenity waved her hand dismissively. "Oh, the kingdom still remains prosperous, as do its citizens. It seems they petition me with the most banal of requests lately: holidays, museum dedications, landmark restorations, and so on. I'm bored to tears at times. But it's not war, and I'm grateful. It's a blessing that the kingdom can afford to be that petty."

Pluto nodded once, betraying no emotion. "And the other Sailor Senshi?"

"Uranus and Neptune still proudly hold their stations as they guard the border of the solar system. As for Mercury, Venus, Mars, and Jupiter, they were included in the court a few decades ago, and they've taken up their responsibilities admirably. I did have concerns that their duties would cause a strain on their friendship, but if anything, it's brought them closer together. Certainly, they're not afraid to laugh about some of the nobles over milkshakes. It's really, really endearing to see…." All of a sudden, Serenity felt like crying, and Pluto knew why.

"It just goes to remind you that we're all still kids," said Pluto. When Serenity remained silent, she added, "They're about your daughter's age, aren't they?"

"Yes, her 515th birthday was just a few weeks ago." Queen Serenity leaned against one of the door pillars; Sailor Pluto remained standing perfectly erect in front of the other. "She's become good friends with the inner Senshi, though I can't say I'm not concerned about her. Sometimes I'll catch her on the balcony, staring down at Earth with this faraway look in her eyes. She reads about it in the library, too. I don't know what to say to her."

The Garnet Rod switched hands. "You can't quell curiosity, especially in one so young."

"Even when it's going to hurt her?" Serenity's sigh added one more puff of mist into the dream realm. "I pity the beings of Earth at times. 515 years, and she's still growing up too fast for my liking. I can't imagine how I would manage just fifteen years with my baby girl."

"Be grateful for whatever years you were given, for some grow up much faster than her. Take me, for example. I'm 393, my Lady. The youngest Sailor Senshi in your service."

"No, you would be 412 by this point in time. But still the youngest. Although, I would never venture to call you young."

"As you say, my queen."

Queen Serenity started twirling a lock of hair around her ring finger; it was the best compromise for the part of her that wanted to tear it out in frustration. "Please, I didn't come here to talk about myself. If you don't mind, I'd like to talk about you."

Pluto cast her eyes around the featureless landscape. "Regretfully, my queen, there's not much for me to share. Unless you've developed a taste for hearing numerical pi recited to the thousandth decimal place; I'm quite proud of myself for having mastered it a decade or so ago. But I shouldn't be so hasty in my assumptions. Who knows how your tastes have changed in 311 years."

Serenity knew the iciness when she heard it, but she couldn't bear to comment upon it. "Then tell me how you are, please. Tell me how you're feeling."

"My mental state is wholesome, so far as I can determine. As for feelings, I am content to faithfully serve my queen."

When Serenity refused to look her in the eye, Pluto sighed. "I'm content with letting you talk, Your Highness. It warms you up for what you really want to say."

"Ah, and you know that about me as result of a few scattered meetings?' "I've had adequate time to thoroughly analyze them." Pluto let her eyes briefly flicker close; Serenity noticed shadows shaped like crescent moons beneath them. "You said you wished to speak about what you've done. If I may comment—"

"Yes, _please_ do."

"—I find such a predicament odd. Your phrasing suggests a guilty conscience, Queen Serenity."

The sovereign of the Moon Kingdom in its height of affluence had to dig her nails into her silk white dress to keep from crying. "Sailor Pluto," she began. Her voice neither wavered nor diminished in volume; she wouldn't permit herself the luxury of sounding pitiful. "I took you as infant, kept you sealed in a tower until you were of age, then tasked you with the responsibility of guarding the Gates of Time for the rest of your life."

"All of which I am aware, Your Highness. I am grateful that I was given the ability to serve you in such a paramount duty."

Queen Serenity's silvery eyes began to mist over, to match the endless fog. Behind her back, her index finger traced the grooves of the pillar, and found them soft like sand. "I have sealed off the Time Spiral Tower," she continued, swallowing a lump in her throat, "and have refused to acknowledge your existence. My own daughter doesn't have the slightest inkling that there even is an eighth Sailor Senshi."

Pluto's grip on the Garnet Rod tightened; her knuckles were clearly defined beneath her glove. "Understandable, Your Highness," she said. "The less people who know of time travel, the better. You are making my job easier."

"And also terribly boring."

Pluto's eyes narrowed, and she turned her head to face Serenity. "As… monotonous as guard duty is, do you truly believe the excitement of enemies trying to manipulate the past or the future would be to my liking? Say what you will, Queen Serenity, but I implore you, put an end to me if such a horrible truth should come to be. I would loathe the idea that my unwillingness to serve would cause any potential disruption to your reign."

"Oh, Pluto, I don't know what to say to you," Serenity lamented as she cast her eyes to the ground. "There's a part of me that insists that my kingdom's safety depended upon me being willing to sacrifice a single girl to become Guardian of the Time Gate, and I don't think I would go back on that decision. But there's something so terribly wrong about a girl doomed for a life of solitude."

"So out of guilt, you visit me, and out of shame, you keep your distance," said Pluto.

Queen Serenity nodded once.

With her head held high and her face arranged in haughty dismissiveness, Pluto made Serenity felt like the one without the crown. "If your guilty conscience somehow thinks these conversations help ease my burden, believe me, they don't. It's hard to adjust to the silence afterwards."

"Then… would you rather I never visit you?"

Pluto's eyes searched the depths of the garnet gemstone in her rod, as if the perfect words to say were merely fractured rays of light within it. "No," she said finally. "I would not wish that. I cherish your presence too much, Queen Serenity. Whether we're given fifteen years or 515, time is precious for finite beings. Every second you choose to spend with me are moments that could be spent with your subjects, or your confidants, or your own daughter. I treasure them, for I know there will come a day when those precious seconds will cease."

Serenity raised an eyebrow. "Do you believe my shame would cause me to abandon you for all eternity?"

Pluto's face was all angles and stone edges. "No, I do not." Her eyes were dark and unflinching when they met Serenity's. "As with all things, I believe you're going to die, my queen."

As the echo of those words thudded all too abruptly into silence, Queen Serenity was anything but her namesake. "I don't like the sound of that, Sailor Pluto," she said, with eyes like lightning – blinding, and almost unrestrained. "Something… something's going to happen, isn't it? You've seen the future, haven't you? Haven't you?!"

Queen Serenity's hands barely had time to grasp the circular handle of the Time Gate when a deep purple light exploded into existence, sending the queen flying backwards several meters.

An unknown wind sent Pluto's dark green hair fluttering like a banner as her silhouette emerged from the mist to kneel by Serenity. Serenity made no move to stand up, nor did Pluto extend a hand to help her.

"I am your soldier, Your Highness, but I am not your personal crystal ball. I can assure you that there's nothing to be worried about; just a misinterpretation, or an overreaction, on your part."

"Your aloofness suggests otherwise." Pluto's gaze faltered. "Please," she said, quieter than before, "just tell me this: will the kingdom be safe?"

Pluto's sigh dissipated into a heavy kind of silence, one that hung over their heads. Sitting down beside Serenity's prone body, she hugged her knees to her chest, leaving her Garnet Rod abandoned at her side. Serenity's eyes lost their anger in favor of childlike curiosity as she watched Pluto's distant gaze pass right through the Time Gate as it focused on something only her mind's eye could see. _I take back what I said before,_ she thought. _She does look young. The oldest child in the universe._

"The Moon Kingdom is going to fall." Her voice was quiet, as if that would make gentler the words tumbling from her pale lips. "It will happen all at once, on the day you least expect. There will be no warnings, no alarms, no chance to prepare your army. The end will be swift, but unforgiving. The warriors of Earth will descend upon the Moon, and they will strike at the capital with everything they have. I have seen it. They will leave the Moon Castle in ruins."

"Who will lead the charge?" All at once, Serenity began to understand Pluto: trying to put feeling in hopeless words just left her feeling tired, so she didn't bother.

"An Earth sorceress by the name of Beryl," Pluto replied.

Serenity raised an eyebrow. "At the risk of sounding vain, I hope that all these centuries of my life dedicated to strengthening the Moon Kingdom have not been in preparation for it to perish at the hands of a lowly human proficient in magic tricks."

"She'll be under the influence of Queen Metalia."

"Ah, so _that's_ it." Serenity felt herself smile; it felt like someone else's. "So the Negaverse has finally grown tired of licking its wounds. Good for them."

Pluto cast a sideways glance at her monarch. "There will be no survivors, you know. You're going to die, Queen Serenity."

Serenity twirled a lock of snow white hair around her finger. "Ah, well, it has to happen some time. Can't keep rounding down my age to two thousand, now can I?" Her expression grew sober as her eyes met Pluto's. "May I ask when?"

"They will attack before the millennium's out."

"At best, three decades to spend with my daughter… no survivors, you say…." Her eyes widened, and a choked gasp escaped her mouth, covered by both her hands. "So then, not even her…?"

Pluto didn't dare speak to nor look at her queen. Only when a loud wail rang across the empty dimension did Pluto turn her head just in time to see Serenity hurl an object so hard that it blurred into a streak of white light. It harmlessly bounced off the door of the Time Gate and tumbled through the air. Instinctively, Pluto caught the object, then subsequently dropped it to cover her mouth with both hands.

Queen Serenity had just tried to break the Moon Wand.

"Qu-queen…" Pluto stammered, frozen in place. "I… I've…."

"Never seen me like this before?" Serenity cried, followed by a laugh just as bitter. "What's the point," demanded the queen in a low voice as she scowled at the wand. "What is the point of spreading light and harmony if darkness can just take it all away? The Legendary Silver Crystal, which has protected us for countless generations… what's that going to mean if Metalia destroys it?"

Pluto couldn't say quite how it happened, but somehow she found the ruler of the Moon Kingdom sobbing in her arms. She felt tears soak through the white fabric, right over her heart. "Serenity…" she sighed, as if to expel the life-giving air that suddenly wasn't quite as sweet. Pluto closed her eyes, and she could smell the aroma of roses and liquid sunlight in Serenity's hair. Stray strands of hair fell around her face like wisps of smoke. She touched her skin, and found it cold.

"If there's one thing I believe," Pluto began, "it's that darkness doesn't have the power to take light away forever. Just as you knew the powers of darkness would one day come again, you must also believe that the Legendary Silver Crystal can't be destroyed."

"Perhaps you're right," Serenity whispered, "but still, three decades, just three decades, Pluto! I've lived for so long, yet I'm still grasping for those three decades. It must show how much of that precious time I've wasted. Oh, forgive me, Pluto, for not spending more time with you. Now I'm going to die, and there's so much I wish I had done…."

"I would hardly call leading the Moon Kingdom into its longest era of peace and prosperity to be wasted time. And even for beings who can't claim such a grandiose accomplishment, you've done something very good with the time you've been given: you've loved, and you've loved well."

"I shouldn't have left you alone," Serenity insisted. "I've left you alone for 311 years, all because I was weak and prideful and afraid…."

Pluto's eyes roamed the desolate landscape. "Yes, you did," she whispered. "You left me alone. For as long as I live, I'll never get the chance to get bored in court, or go out for milkshakes, or have a daughter. It's just been me, fighting off minor demons and thinking in endless circles as I stand outside this door. You must have been scared for me, thinking me some kind of brainwashed soldier only knowing purpose in serving you. But I have seen you laugh and complain and cry, and I know better."

Pluto's strong, steady voice faltered. "I'm weak," she whispered in the voice of a child. "You have trusted me, and in turn I have only shown you bitterness and hostility, because anything else would hurt too much. However, you still returned for me, because in your heart, whether you realized it or not, you understood the truth I could never say out loud: Queen Serenity, I don't require festivals or accolades for my service. All I need is to know that I have not been forgotten."

"But I'm going to die," Serenity insisted. "I'm going to die, and when I do, no one will have known you even existed."

"But _you_ knew, Serenity. And you cared." Her eyes looked out to the vast, endless horizon buried beneath the mist. "We're all going to die," she continued softly, so very, very softly. "If there's anything that Time has taught me, it's that. But I gave the Moon Kingdom one thousand years. A thousand years for what must be a hundred thousand people. So then…" She looked up at Serenity and smiled. "I don't regret anything."

For the longest second, Serenity had to struggle to remember how to breathe. In all her many years of living, she never thought she'd arrive at that day when the unbreakable Sailor Pluto cried.

"Could I… could I ask you for one thing?"

Serenity nodded once.

"Remember me on the day you die."

Serenity didn't know how she managed such a painful smile. "Better yet," she said, taking Pluto's slender hands in hers, "I'll come see you before that day comes."

"Don't make promises you can't keep." Her voice wasn't cold or reprimanding, just a statement of facts with a resigned kind of sadness.

Serenity didn't try to argue. "Will you at least fight in the battle?"

Pluto let her eyes flutter closes, steadying herself. "If I may ask one thing, just one thing, my Lady, it would be to not stand by and watch you die."

For a long, long while, there was silence. "Then I suppose this must be goodbye."

Pluto smiled, a heartfelt smile this time. "Yet it does not have to be a sorrow goodbye. My queen, my friend, if you wish to do something for me, to make me truly happy, then spend time with your daughter. Cherish the time you have left with her, the time I have fought to give."

Without warning, the ruler of the Moon Kingdom rushed to give the senshi a hug. "Thank you," she whispered. "Thank you, thank you, thank you. I'll never forget you. No matter what I have to do, I promise that you will not be forgotten."

 _"You will not be forgotten…."_

Those final words remained planted in Pluto's memory far after they were said. Though even the echoes had dissolved into quiet, no one could deny that they had existed, had lived, had _mattered._

With the Time Gate safely closed, the Guardian of Time resumed her post and began to imagine the taste of a strawberry milkshake on a sunny day.


End file.
